In the Hands of Providence
by Dunquixote
Summary: This is the sequel to Prelude to Destiny.The story takes place in events of Dragon Age: Origins. Alfidaiya Surana is Ferelden's newest Grey Warden recruit;a very reluctant one.I would like to thank SamaraDraven for helping me with a minor detail in ch.1. All familiar characters, plots, and dialogue from Dragon Age:Origins & Dragon Age II belong to Bioware.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: This story is the sequel to "Prelude to Destiny." All familiar characters, plots, and familiar dialogue from Dragon Age: Origins as well as Dragon Age II belong exclusively to Bioware.

* * *

Prologue

_9:31 Dragon_

An elf...and...a _mage _had delivered the killing blow to the Archdemon. It was _her_. Knight-Captain Cullen could scarcely believe it. How could someone that lacked self-confidence and endurance like her manage to survive the Blight? How could someone as compassionate and kind as she was, bring herself to kill even a tainted dragon?

Cullen had never seen Knight-Commander Greagoir looking more tired or defeated as he had looked now. He wondered if the messenger had been mistaken in the news he had brought. The surviving templars had returned in a similar condition as Greagoir was: fatigued and dispirited. Before the Circle had been overrun with demons and blood mages, he had never imagined the taste of victory would be anything other than jubilant. If anything, it was bittersweet and came at a great cost, as was always the case when it came to warfare and Blights.

"Well, Cullen," Greagoir said resignedly. "You chose...well."

"I'm sorry, Knight-Commander; what?" Cullen nearly jumped, startled by Greagoir's voice. He was the only templar that was ordered to remain at the what had remained of the tower; the hours of silence had made it difficult to readjust to the exposure of any source of sound.

There was a rather withdrawn expression...or perhaps even a hint of sadness in his dark eyes. "I must admit, I had misjudged her when she was still residing here, especially after she had helped that blood mage escape. I would never have thought she would turn against her own, when it came to dealing with the blood mages and abominations in the tower. And now, she has just saved Ferelden from the Archdemon."

"Knight-Commander?" Cullen still didn't quite understand what Greagoir was getting at.

"She has proven herself to be a _true_ friend to the Templar Order. I would advise you to, while continuing to faithfully uphold your duty as knight-captain, keep her close. She'll make a valuable ally one day. As long as you do that and," Greagoir looked sternly at Cullen. "**Not** get caught, I see no reason now for you to end your relations with her."

_Well, it's a little too late for him to be telling me that,_ Cullen bitterly thought. _ Age must have hit him hard during the fight for him to suddenly be telling me that it's 'okay' to be in love with a mage. Has he already forgotten what had happened at the tower?_

"You expect me to trust a mage after what I've been through? She may have saved me and Ferelden, but she could still be a blood mage! We can't trust any of them. The fact she had defeated the Archdemon just shows us how they-"

"Knight-Captain," Greagoir interrupted Cullen. "This is why I didn't allow you to join the rest of the templars in the battle. You clearly need some more time to recuperate."

Cullen clenched his teeth together angrily. It was all her fault. She had abandoned him and the rest of the templars and mages to be at the disposal of the blood mages and demons, just so she could play hero. She had let everyone down. Had she never left, maybe his friends would still be alive. He hated her for returning to the tower, and tormenting him with her presence that he had initially missed. _Damn her. May Andraste spit on her for what she is._

Word of the Archdemon's death by the hand of an elven Grey Warden mage, had spread like wildfire from messenger to messenger, city to city. Questions that were normally asked behind closed doors, had emerged into more open and public discussions. Mages had been and still were popularly perceived as dangerous and cursed creations of the Maker, and it wouldn't surprise anyone if they had ever brought about Ferelden's demise; they were feared at best, and hated at worst.1 Why then, did a mage risk her life as well as her companions' lives to end the massive darkspawn threat that had been afflicting the kingdom for almost a full year? What reason could a mage have to defend a country whose people usually would only greet with fear, suspicion, or open hostility? Could they, the citizens of Ferelden be wrong for their traditional treatment of mages?

There were also some, but not many questions that had been asked on matters of morality, for those who were willing to even admit the history of wrongdoings by the humans towards the elves. Many of these questions, however, were self-explanatory; regardless what type of life the elves lived-whether it was submitting to live under human rule or to refuse to bow down and to live as their ancestors had, they were all part of the same country, and were threatened by the darkspawn threat.

In any case, the fact that there were any questions being asked at all, had made it appear for a short period of time, that with the joining of a new king with Ferelden's queen, perhaps a new age had begun.

* * *

_9:35 Dragon_

"The Hero of Ferelden" and "the Champion of Kirkwall," both were titles that made Cullen cringe each time he heard them being said. Were they well-deserved? Most certainly, but did they impress him? No. Titles were intangible and worthless, and only served to boost a person's ego.

If anyone deserved to have a boost to their ego, it had to be Alfidaiya Surana. He suspected that the moment people had familiarized themselves with "the Hero of Ferelden," they would certainly try to take her for granted. While being a hero can be beneficial-if one knew how to use the status to their advantage, it could also be a burden. Assuming that she was the same woman he had once known, then there would be a good chance that her naiveté and unassertiveness would only lead to her downfall.

_I have no doubt she'd be able to defend herself from assassination attempts. She did kill the Archdemon after all. But, how well could she defend herself if someone tried to rape her? _Cullen had felt himself shudder at the thought. _Dammit. I don't want that to happen to her but at the same time, I feel that it's not just her well-being that is bothering me... Bah! What does it matter to me? I shouldn't worry about her anymore. She is no longer part of my life. _

His subconscious disagreed and wasn't convinced that he had truly meant it.

Cullen ran his right hand through his golden-brown hair and looked at the clock in his room; it was around midnight. Several hours ago, Leliana, one of Alfidaiya's former companions had stopped to talk to him in the Gallows Courtyard to deliver some of Alfidaiya's belongings to him and to ask if he knew of her whereabouts, which of course, he didn't. The past just could not seem to completely cease following him. And here he had thought he had destroyed all of the chains that had held him back from moving on with his life.

One hour ago, he had finished reading a journal that she had recorded in when she was still residing at Kinloch Hold, the home of Ferelden's Circle of Magi.2 Questions had now begun to surface, which would, sooner or later, have to be answered. Was retaining his rank and reputation back in Ferelden, worth losing the love of his life? Was duty so important to him that he would even cut his own heart out if the Chantry ordered him to? It deeply pained him to know that he, sooner or later, would have to make the ultimate decision of where his heart truly lied. Did he want to live the rest of his life blindly following every rule and order that Chantry gives?

What type of life _did_ he want to lead and was there any room for personal happiness? It made Cullen's heart heavy just from asking himself those questions. Last year, if someone had asked him those questions, without hesitation, he'd say (or rather, 'recite') that it was his duty to do whatever his Knight-Commander asked of him, and that he served the Chantry and would adhere to its rules as well. Now, he wasn't so sure.

Cullen picked up the next journal he had stacked onto his desk with the other ones he had planned on reading next. This journal was exceptionally battered and was the thickest of all of the journals. The binding was broken, its cover was caked in dried human blood, and even more blood was splattered across most of the pages.

He flipped open the journal to the first page; blood, ink, and dirt was smeared all over the page along with a scribbled note:

_ I love you, Cullen. I promise that we'll meet again someday. ~Alfidaiya Surana~_

Cullen leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk and buried his face in both of his hands. "That idiot," he muttered. "That damn stubborn woman; she just won't give up on me. Why? Maybe Anders was right about questioning her judgment in her choice for a lover." He let out a sad and bitter laugh and then turned to the next page to begin reading the full account of Alfidaiya's trials and endeavors during the Blight.


	2. Chapter 2

_16 August, 9:30 Dragon_

* * *

Of all the Harrowings he could have been called for to attend, he had to be called for Alifidaiya's Harrowing. And of course, Greagoir had to pick _him_ to strike the killing blow if she were to become an abomination. Cullen couldn't help but suspect that Greagoir had planned the Harrowing accordingly as a form of punishment for him.

He watched Alfidaiya emerge from the staircase with a templar walking beside her. Her eyes met his, looking surprised to see him here. Of course, before turning to face Greagoir and Irving, she had to give him that_ damn_ innocent smile of hers that had never seemed to fail at captivating his attention to her,

Pacing to-and-fro while maintaining eye contact with Alfidaiya, Knight-Commander Greagoir now had begun reciting the same introduction to the test as Cullen had heard him repeat for every apprentice's Harrowing that he had been present for so far.

"'Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.' Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin. Your magic is a gift, but it's also a curse, for demons of the dream realm-the Fade-are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world,3" Greagoir said.

First Enchanter Irving turned to face Alfidaiya and said, "This is why the Harrowing exists. The ritual sends you into the Fade, and there you will face a demon, armed with only your will."

Alfidaiya nodded. "I am ready."

Greagoir looked grimly at her and said, "Know this, apprentice: if you fail, we templars will perform our duty. You will die."

As Alfidaiya approached the glowing pool of lyrium that was set on a pedestal, Irving leaned close to her and said in a hushed voice, "The Harrowing is a secret out of necessity, child. Every mage must go through this trial by fire. As we succeeded, so shall you. Keep your wits about you and remember the Fade is a realm of dreams. The spirits may rule it, but your own will is real."

Alfidaiya reached for the pool of lyrium and immediately was engulfed in white light

Entering the Fade didn't seem to sound like much of a test to her. Alfidaiya knew that most apprentices feared the Harrowing and some would vomit just thinking about it. A small number would voluntarily choose to take the Rite of Tranquility as an alternative to the chances of being possessed by a demon, and from time-to-time, an apprentice would be possessed and would be summarily killed by the templars. Since she had been in the Fade before, she didn't think anything could surprise her anymore.

"_Someone_ _else thrown to the wolves. As fresh and unprepared as ever_."

Looking down towards the source of the voice, she saw that there was a mouse standing near her feet.

_Remember, nothing is what it may seem to be even in the Fade. _Alfidaiya eyed the mouse suspiciously. _It might be a demon for all I know. I best be more careful in who-or should I say, 'what' I lay my trust in, than I have been in the past._

The mouse disappeared within a blink of an eye and in its place now was a human spirit. "Welcome to the Fade. My name...hmm...I guess you can just call me, 'Mouse.' I, too was once an apprentice, but unfortunately, I had failed my Harrowing because I took too long."

_Apprentice my ass. He's wearing Senior Enchanter's robes. Good job giving yourself away, Demon. Fine. If you want me to play your game, I'll play your little game for now. After all, it wouldn't be the wisest of moves if I just attacked you._

"Unlike you, I'm not unprepared," Alfidaiya said curtly. "I've been to the Fade before, but thank you for your welcome; although, this isn't the appropriate place to be or feel 'welcomed' at."

"Pfft. You actually think that one or two visits to the Fade is going to prepare you for fighting any demon?" Mouse snorted derisively. "So, tell me then; what were you planning to do if you did come across the demon that you were sent here to face?"

"Well, it would depend on what type of demon I was put up against to face," Alfidaiya replied impatiently. "Where are you going with this? I can't waste any time chatting."

"You would be a fool to just attack everything you see. What you face is powerful, cunning. There are others here, other spirits. They will tell you more, maybe help. If you can believe anything you can see. I'll follow, if that's all right. My chance was long ago, but you... you may have a way out." Mouse transformed back into the shape of a mouse.

"Actually, I Do mind that you're following me. What is it to you if I pass my test? I can carry on by myself, thank you very much."

"_No, no, no_," Mouse said, obviously exasperated with her distrust of him. "_It is arrogance like that, my friend that will get you into trouble, here in the Fade. You cannot be so self-assured of your abilities when you're only an apprentice and have yet to see the magnitude of the power some demons have_."

"Then help me fight if you want to come. I have no use for you if you're just going to stay in your mouse form like a coward; you'd only be distracting and in my way. If you were an apprentice mage, then use the spells you had known."

Mouse did not respond; she had no choice but to allow him to follow her since she had lost some precious time arguing with him.

This particular part of the Fade that she was in was a rather small area, but there were still plenty of demons lurking at every curve, corner, and shadow as there would be in any other parts of the dream realm. Each time she would turn a corner, a wisp wraith would be waiting for her about several feet away on the path. The wisp wraiths were easily killed by her, usually by a single spell such as Arcane Bolt.

"_Ah. There is a spirit to your left. Why don't you see if he can provide you with any aid against the demon?_"

Seeing Alfidaiya approaching it, the spirit greeted her by standing up stiffly and nodding in her direction. The spirit appeared to be a templar with a transparent yellow radiant body. "Greetings, mortal. I see that the mages have decided to throw another one of their own into the flames and left to burn."

Cullen knew he should have faith in Alfidaiya, after all, this wasn't her first time in the Fade and she was First Enchanter Irving's star pupil. He personally had watched her demonstrate her spells when he had been assigned to a post in the classrooms, and she had never ceased to amaze him.

During her classroom demonstrations, she had always furrowed her brow in deep concentration as she apportioned the required amount of mana for the spell. The resolute expression on her face to achieve perfection, matched by the tense but rigid and confident body stance had painted an illustration, in Cullen's mind, of a human stonewall, standing unyieldingly in face of a head on assault. Of course, he didn't believe she was literally capable of displaying that resolution in battle, but nevertheless, that did not prevent such imagery from coming to mind back then. In a way, knowing how nervous she got around people, it could be deemed appropriate to classify her classroom demonstrations as her own battle, or struggle to withhold against her inner weaknesses when put into the uncomfortable public setting.

Even though it _seemed_ like her inner weaknesses were rarely an issue when she was in a classroom setting, from the time they had spent together over the years he had been living at the tower, he _knew_ they were always there and that she was often on the brink of mentally breaking down. Knowing how fragile she really was, Cullen feared that she did not have enough willpower to pass the Harrowing. He had known her to be too compassionate, and he believed that that virtue could eventually lead to her ultimate destruction. Demons were not to be reckoned with because they were cunning and powerful creatures that ruled the Fade and sought to possess primarily mages through deception.

Cullen tried to hold back a yawn. He knew it was getting late, but he expected that he was going to be there well into the morning; most of the Harrowings he had been to, ended as late as the early hours of the morning.

"Greagoir," Irving nodded in Alfidaiya's direction; she was returning from the Fade.

Greagoir motioned for Cullen and the other present templars to stand near Alfidaiya.

"Be on the lookout for any signs of demonic possession," Greagoir said without taking his eyes off of Alfidaiya. "And be ready to strike when I give the order to."

"Yes, Knight-Commander!" all of the templars said in unison. As the templars reached for their swords, Alfidaiya collapsed at their feet.

Cullen watched her sides heaving heavily and how each breath she took was short and uneven; beads of sweat had trickled down her face. For a moment, her eyes were shut, but when her breathing steadied and became more even, they fluttered open in time to see the four steel swords that were in her face being pulled away from her. Her eyes briefly met Cullen's, to whom Alfidaiya smiled weakly at as she closed her eyes and soon afterwards, fell asleep.

_Thank the Maker she had passed the test_.

* * *

_17 August, 9:30 Dragon_

_Although the Harrowing wasn't as frightening to me as everyone expects it to be, I will admit it was a nerve-wrecking experience. As I had suspected from the start, a "spirit" that had followed me throughout the test first in the shape of a mouse and then in the shape of a bear, was what I believe to have been a Pride Demon. Just thinking about the fact that I have now seen a Pride Demon for the first time, is bringing me chills down my back. It was a good thing I didn't attack it after reaching the conclusion that Mouse was indeed a demon. I don't think I would've been able to handle it on my own at least from what I have read about Pride Demons._

_I was still relatively surprised in a way, though I had thought it was a rather stupid mistake for a demon that was hunting me to be wearing Senior Enchanter's robes even though it claimed to have once been an apprentice. Then again, maybe it wasn't a mistake. I didn't think I'd be put up against a demon of that immense power right away. Maybe Mouse was right about one thing: that the test was set up with the expectation or even 'hope' that the person would fail._

_Keeping that thought in mind, I find the whole setup very suspicious. First, they don't tell you what exactly the Harrowing is. Thus, there's only so much you can do before taking the test to prepare, if there's any way to prepare at all. That part of the setup I can partially understand their reasoning. Secondly, how exactly can you set up a test where there are only particular types of demons for you to interact with (Rage, Sloth, and Pride), excluding the ones that would randomly appear and attack one (wisps, spirit wolves)? Third and foremost of all, how did they know that the demon that was hunting me would let me go if I made the correct choices; and that they-not just the demon hunting me wouldn't just attack me on sight? I wonder if some sort of deal had to be made between the mages and the demon... Mages making deals with demons... That's a very disturbing thought. I ought to look into this if there's any way I can._

_Except for the riddle game that the Sloth demon challenged me to in order to convince it to teach Mouse how to shapeshift into a bear, I don't see how any skilled apprentice could fail this test. One would have to be very naive with their brain stuck in some utopian fantasy for them to make such a foolish mistake as in allowing a demon to leave the Fade with them._

Their presence was everywhere; she could feel it in her dreams. Though they remained physically unseen, the demons' malicious presence and their craving to acquire a gateway to the mortals' world could be distinguished within the fog of images and thoughts that had been created in her sleep. As she slowly had begun to wake up, without opening her eyes, she still had retained the sense that someone or something was still watching her, and was preparing to make its move against her.

"Are you all right? Say something, please..." a voice beseeched her.

Because her consciousness had not been fully roused, she was still within the realm of the dreamers; hence her brain had interpreted the voice that was addressing her to belong to a Pride Demon instead of a human. Alfidaiya's mind translated all words of concern that the speaker had expressed into the final words of the demon she had encountered in the Fade before it disappeared.

"_Remember that the true danger of the Fade is not so much the entities," _the demon had told her._ "As it is the carelessness, trust, and pride. Always keep your wits about you. True tests never end._"

"Die, demon!" she yelled out.

"HEY!" Someone grabbed hold of her shoulders and shook her until her eyes opened.

"Thanks, Jowan," she said wearily as she climbed out of bed. "Please don't hover over me like that again while I'm sleeping. It's really creepy."

"Sorry. I'm glad you're all right. They carried you in this morning. I didn't even realize you'd been gone all night," Jowan replied.

"All night?" Alfidaiya scratched her head puzzled. "The test didn't seem to take that long for me to finish. I guess I was wrong."

"What was the Harrowing like?"

"_(Groans) _Jowan, leave me alone, please. I hardly got any sleep, _thanks_ to you waking me up."

"Hmph. So much for friendship. I'll leave you alone then. And now you get to move to the nice mages' quarters upstairs. I'm stuck here and I don't know when they'll call me for my Harrowing."

"Jowan," Alfidaiya gave him a dark look. "This is why I avoid you so much; you take everything too personally, especially when you don't get your way. Besides, you know they'll call you when they think you're ready."

"No, they won't. I think they just don't want to test me," Jowan said glumly.

"Now you're just being plain pessimistic. Be patient."

"Easy for you to say. I've been here longer than you. I see no reason why I haven't been called for my summoning yet, while you and other apprentices that haven't been here as long as I have, have already taken their test."

"Well, whining to me will surely improve the chances of you getting summoned."

Jowan scowled. "I don't whine. Anyways, I shouldn't waste your time with this. I was supposed to tell you to see Irving as soon as you woke up."16

"It's too late. You _already _have wasted my time, Jowan. Thanks," Alfidaiya snapped.

When Jowan left the dormitory, Alfidaiya silently screamed in frustration. Her patience with Jowan was now at its limit. She knew she should have stopped being his friend years ago, but she had thought that he'd eventually mature as he grew older. Unfortunately, it was clear to her that that wasn't going to happen.

_Well, there's no point trying to go back to sleep,_ Alfidaiya thought grumpily._ Now that I'm awake, I might as well see what the First Enchanter wants._

The Senior Mage Quarters was bustling with an unusual amount of activity and commotion on this particular morning. Word had been going around the tower amongst templars and mages alike, that a Grey Warden would be staying overnight as a guest of honor. The Tranquil were hustling about more than they normally would, making sure everything was in order: from seeing that the guest room was ready to provide the necessary accommodations for their guest of honor; making preparations for sending out the next shipment of enchanted goods to the Circle of Magi stores; keeping track of inventory; to maintaining the records and archives. The First Enchanter and Knight-Commander Greagoir had made it clear to mages and templars alike that they wanted the tower to be as presentable as possible while they had such an important guest at the tower.

Knight-Captain Cullen didn't normally care for the idle gossip he'd hear being exchanged by apprentices and mages passing by him in the corridors, but today, his curiosity had got the better of him.

"Do you think the Grey Warden is here looking for some new recruits?" A male mage, about eighteen years of age, looked expectantly at the female mage walking beside him. "I would love the chance to join the Grey Wardens. I'd not only be able to help defend Ferelden, but I would also have an opportunity to get out of this _damn_ tower."

His friend didn't appear to share his enthusiasm. "If there's a Blight, then the dwarves are not doing their job. I'd be perfectly happy if we just let them deal with the darkspawn. Even if we're called to defend Ferelden, it's not like the people are going to view the mages any differently than before. Don't you think we have enough problems worrying about being possessed by demons to even consider adding darkspawn to our list of concerns?"

_If I am not mistaken, the Grey Wardens consider only the very best_ to recruit_._ To Cullen's dismay, it had just dawned on him what that could only mean. _It's almost certain that he'd be interested in recruiting Alfidaiya, after all, it would be foolish to not at least consider her, because of how highly the First Enchanter speaks of her._

He leaned back against the corridor wall and silently prayed she would not be recruited. He was sure she wouldn't come back to the tower alive; as capable of a mage she was, he did not see a potential killer inside of her. At that moment, however, Cullen took notice of her approaching him, and ironically, there was a look of death in her eyes.

"I guess I don't need to even bother asking how well your morning has been so far," Cullen greeted her with a light chuckle. He immediately regretted having said anything at all, from seeing the way she glowered at him

"I'm going to _kill_ Jowan," Alfidaiya murmured to him before continuing to trudge her way to the First Enchanter's office.

The moment she was out of his sight, he let out a deep exhale. He was definitely glad he wasn't Jowan. Whatever was in store for him, as far as Cullen could tell from that murderous glare in her eyes, was obviously not going to be even remotely pleasant.

"This has gone on long enough, Irving," Greagoir said, clearly vexed. "It is still only a rumor to the other templars, but eventually they **will** find out. Can't you do anything about that girl, Irving? I've already said my piece to Cullen, but that was before their relationship was this serious."

Greagoir did bring up a valid point; there would be serious consequences if no course of action or proper discretion was taken. The Chantry and many Fereldans would be in a uproar if they caught wind of the matter, not that this was the first time that it was discovered that a templar was in a relationship with a mage, since it involved the Knight-Captain.

Irving frowned and crossed his arms. "Why have you waited so long to address this to me?"

"I didn't believe Cullen would succumb to feelings for a mage, for this long."

"Surely, you have seen the way he looks at her? It's hard _not_ to notice."

"Well, Irving, tell me why _you_ haven't addressed the matter with Alfidaiya yet?"

"The child has had a rough life here, Greagoir. She has much respect in the Circle, but pretty much has only one _true_ friend amongst the apprentices. You know, as well as I do, that the mages often seek the companionship from not just other mages, but also from the templars."

"There is no excuse for this kind of behavior, not to mention that I cannot get any proper rest at night with the way those two carry on at night," he grumbled. "Thankfully, last night was her Harrowing, so I at least got a few 'extra' hours worth of sleep. That's how _lucky_ I am to have my room near Cullen's."

"_(Chuckles)_ I will have a word with her, Greagoir."

Greagoir glowered at Irving. "Are you laughing? This isn't _funny_, Irving. If the Chantry were to find out, the reliability of the Templar Order could be questioned."

"Greagoir, as I recall," Irving briefly looked up at the ceiling, reminiscing. "Even _you_ couldn't-"

"Irving..." Greagoir's eyes flashed dangerously at Irving.

"Greagoir, then what do you want me to say to the poor girl? Do you want me to tell her she has to end the relationship now or we'll have to send her to another Circle Tower? Do you realize how crushed she'd be if we told her that? Is it so wrong for her to seek out some source of happiness?"

"Irving! You are too soft with the girl. If I was in your shoes and talked to her, she would not doubt break all ties with him as he would with her if I were to order it. That's how dedicated Cullen is to the Chantry."

"Is that so? Then, why haven't you ordered him to break his ties with her yet?"

"You have no right-"

"Do you think it's right to punish Cullen and her for having a relationship, while we sit idly by as other mages seek pleasure with templars?"

While the two men continued, a man with dark-complexioned skin entered the room through the doorway, unnoticed. He was wearing grey leather armor with a strap worn diagonally down from the left shoulder and across his chest; a longsword and dagger was attached to the back of his belt.

The man cleared his throat to gain the men's attention. "Gentlemen."

Both Greagoir and Irving turned to face the man and abruptly ended their argument.

"Ah, Duncan. It's nice to see you again," Irving greeted Duncan warmly, shaking his hand.

"And it is a pleasure to see you as well, First Enchanter," Duncan amiably replied.

Greagoir nodded curtly at Duncan.

"Duncan, how is the war effort coming along?" Irving asked.

"Not good," Duncan said grimly. "King Cailan believes that his forces along with Loghain's and the Grey Wardens will be enough to drive back the Darkspawn and prevent a Blight from happening."

"You don't believe that will happen though, do you?"

"No. Although we still haven't seen or sensed an Archdemon yet, as I have mentioned during my last meeting with you, I am quite certain that this is in fact a Blight, since even now, there continues to be an increasing number of hordes of darkspawn gathering in the Korcari Wilds. It is usually, if not always unheard of for darkspawn hordes to be seen when there isn't a Blight."

"Of course, most people don't want to take the word of a Grey Warden to be the truth."

"There are some things in the past, regardless of how long ago it was, that people will not be able to forget. Then again, there are also those who romanticizes the Grey Wardens and their past accomplishments _too _much."

"So, what business with the Circle does the Grey Wardens have this time," Greagoir asked.

"With King Cailan's permission, I came here seeking a greater commitment from the Circle," Duncan replied.17 "I am grateful for the seven mages that have been already sent to Ostagar, but I'm afraid, that will not be enough to make any impact on the battle. The darkspawn have emissaries who wield magic, thus, our resources _must_ exceed theirs. To me, having a mage or two placed in every contingent would be ideal and would no doubtably have a tremendous impact on the outcome of the battle."18

Irving nodded. "I see. Give me some time to think over this. I'll let you know what my final decision is before you depart for Ostagar tomorrow. In the meantime, there is one particular mage I would like you to meet. She had just recently come out of her apprenticeship and is by far the most promising and capable of my students."

"Oh? Do please tell me about her, if you don't mind."

"Alfidaiya was about five-years-old when she was first brought to the tower. It was a rather interesting day, as I recall," Irving chuckled. "Even Greagoir here was flabbergasted." Greagoir scowled at Irving. "You see, she was still transformed as an exotic type of cat when she had arrived. It took quite some time for the templars to convince both of us that this was a five-year-old elven child."

Duncan had found himself quite intrigued with what he was hearing so far about this particular mage. "From what I've seen or have been told by mages about the schools and specializations of magic, shapeshifting has only been mentioned in association with 'hedge mages.' How does a child come to possess such a type of magic?"

"Ah. Good question," Irving stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I only have heard of one shapeshifter, but I have never met her personally. It has been said that the Magisters of the Tevinter Imperium once practiced such magic. There still may be families that possess the ability, and pass its secrets from generation to generation."

"Are you really going to consider committing more mages to the war?" Greagoir interjected. "... many have already gone to Ostagar-Wynne, Uldred, and most of the senior mages! We've committed enough of our own to this war effort-"

"Your own? Since when have you felt such kinship with the mages, Greagoir? Or are you afraid to let the mages out from under Chantry supervision, where they can actually use their Maker-given powers?" Irving retorted.

"How dare you suggest-"

Duncan cut off Greagoir when he noticed a female elf mage entering the room. "Gentlemen, please. Irving, someone is here to see you."

"Hello," Alfidaiya shyly greeted everyone.

"Ah, if it isn't our new sister in the Circle. Come, child," Irving beckoned her to join the conversation.

"Well, Irving, you're obviously busy. We will discuss this later," Greagoir said brusquely before exiting from the office.

"Of course. Well, then... where was I? Oh, yes. This is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens. Duncan, this is Alfidaiya Surana, the mage I had told you about."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Alfidaiya said, smiling politely at Duncan.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well," Duncan said with a half-bow.

"You've heard about the war brewing to the south, I expect? Duncan is recruiting mages to join the king's army at Ostagar," Irving said.

"A war? I have only heard that people are beginning to think that a Blight has started," Alfidaiya replied.

"Hordes of darkspawn has begun to gather in the south," Duncan explained to her. "Their numbers have been increasing daily and their presence almost guarantees that they'll invade the land north of the Korcari Wilds. It has been know so far that darkspawn to gather in hordes only during a Blight."

Alfidaiya nodded her head politely as she patiently listened to Duncan's explanation. To be quite honest, she could care less about the Blight. Right now, all she wanted to do was sleep a few hours longer and then go read in the library.

"King Cailan has brought his army to Ostagar, hoping to push the darkspawn back before a Blight begins."

Irving noticed the disinterest in her face and he chuckled. "Maybe we should save the discussion for another day. She had a long night last night. And," he said, turning to face Alfidaiya. "I believe I owe you a proper congratulations on passing your Harrowing. You are now officially a mage within the Circle of Magi. I present you with your robes, your staff, and a ring bearing the Circle's insignia."

"Thank you, First Enchanter," Alfidaiya said.


End file.
